


In Deep Waters

by Familiae



Series: Crimes Against Decency [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Flirting, M/M, Oral Sex, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-01-26 02:24:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21366643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Familiae/pseuds/Familiae
Series: Crimes Against Decency [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1538989





	1. Salt-Water

The internal garden was larger than I imagined. The entrance was wide and open, the floors around the area were marble, and the area was an open arch like something out of an ancient Greek temple. Once outside, I realized the marble columns continued to either side of the entrance, along with the marble floors, wide enough to accommodate a few wicker chairs and a matching table. The table now lay empty except for an ash tray, set in the middle next to a simple arrangement of colorful flowers, but I could easily imagine a pleasant lunch being served there.

Overhead, the walls continued for the three floors of the mansion—though in a different manner from the facet the house contained from the outside. The stone used for the inside was white, and the designs presented were different. A mish mash of columns and arches, stretching over rooms—to my surprise, I even spotted a few balconies, with elegant decorative spirals around the balustrade. I tried to peer at the rooms, but I did not recognize a single one. It occurred to me that ancient Greek was not the right feel to it—it reminded me more of the Renaissance architecture. Florence and Rome.

The whole assemble was finished by an open dome—not an inch of glass stood to guard the garden from the elements, though, the shape of it suggested otherwise. Maybe some would be in place come winter? It was odd, but I figured Izaac knew what he was doing.

The garden itself stood in contrast with the Mediterranean architecture. While the structure was elegant and stylistic, the garden had a wilder edge to it. The plants were frilly, and stooping over the edges of the path, seeming to reach out for you. The trees twisted upwards, thick vines clinging to the trunks and the lowest branches. Over the whole expanse of it where what looked to be hundreds of flowers in brilliant colors—red, orange, and yellow were predominant, though I spotted white, pink, and even blue ones. Most of them I could not recognize, but some of them were familiar—hibiscus, callas, bromeliads, lilies, and orchids.

In the center of the garden stood a vast pond with steep edges—it was impossible to tell how deep it was, but I gathered, enough to discourage swimming in it. Trees curved over the pond, and some of the thicker ones even reached twisting roots inside. The water was clear, however, and crystalline. It reflected the sunlight with gentle ripples over the surface. The waters reached close to the walls of the garden, but never quite touched them. Leaves and even flower petals floated over its surface.

I could hear the singing and fluttering of birds from where I stood. I spotted a few pigeons, but nothing else—though the melodic whistling could be nothing else except a songbird, though none I have ever heard before. A dragonfly skirted over the edges of the pond and disappeared. Between the branches of the trees, a spider’s web glittered with dew. I was suddenly reminded of Apep’s reptiles—I’m sure a lot of them would enjoy it out here.

As if guessing my thoughts, as I turned my head I spotted a huge lizard with a striped tail and a crest—an iguana. It stood under the shade of a tree, completely still.

A path made of artfully broken pieces of marble led from the entrance towards a wooden platform that stood over the pond, no wooden poles or fences around it—perfect for hanging your feet over the edge and skimming them against the water’s surface. The same path split up into various directions as well—disappearing into the trees.

I wasn’t completely sure what made me walk towards the water’s edge, but I did. Before I knew it, I was standing over the wooden platform, eyes narrowed at the water below. It looked deep, though I wasn’t sure how much. Would it be possible to store something, well, nasty, under its depths? I could imagine pupil-less glittering eyes and razor-like teeth and shuddered. This was Izaac we were talking about—I had no doubt that the waters could host anything from goldfish to sea serpents.

I sat down on the platform, and bent over to peer between the wooden boards, trying to spot anything beneath the waters. I think I saw fish darting around, but besides that—

“What are you doing?”

Startled, I think I yelped. I certainly leaped up, at the very least, clutching at my chest, and scrambling away from the platform’s edge. Because there, near where my foot had previously been, were fingers, clutching at the edge—the fingers were clearly attached to arms, that where attached to a torso, that was attached to the head—although I could only see half of the latter. He had the most startling pair of eyes I had ever seen—deep blue, like sapphires, wide, and framed with thick long lashes that would make girls squirm with envy. His hair was black, starting at the roots, though the color faded to what appeared to be a deep blue, then to a lighter blue at the ends.

He was also very, very wet. His hair stuck to his face, and dripped droplets of water, the wood under his fingers darkened in color as the liquid seeped into it.

I stared at him, not knowing what to say. Part of me wanted to turn around, but fascination affixed me in place. As I watched, his eyes clouded with worry, and his voice came soft and shy, “Are you alright?”

I blinked, and forced myself to offer a hurried nod. He didn’t seem to believe me, he lifted himself up, setting his elbows against the platform, and tilted his head to the side. I noticed that his hair was long—it plastered to his shoulders, and around his collarbone, and it hung over his back. It had gentle waves to it, I noticed. Though it was impossible to tell how wavy it’d be with how limp and wet it was.

Not knowing what else to do, I blurted what first came to mind, “I didn’t think Izaac would let people swim in the pond.”

He smiled at that, “Why wouldn’t he?”

...Because there’s probably crocodile and sharks—maybe even crocodile-sharks in the water, I wanted to say, but I held my tongue.

“It’s his private garden—and he is careful with his stuff,” I said instead. That made him sound prissy without being too mean, I hoped.

“I guess,” his voice was quiet, and smooth—it had a soothing, almost hypnotizing quality to it, I noticed. I automatically felt myself calm down when he spoke, “but he always lets me swim here, so I guess he doesn’t mind.”

I had to wonder about that. I hadn’t seen him before—I was certain I’d remember a face like his if I had. Though, I guessed he looked to be at ease, and judging from his tone of voice and his words, this wasn’t the first time he had taken a dive in the waters, and would certainly not be the last.

“Have you been here for long?” I asked him—I hadn’t noticed him nearby as I surveyed the area. Maybe he had been out of sight then, but even so, I hadn’t heard the water splash around either. He just suddenly appeared.

“Ever since I was a child,” he looked at me curiously then.

Aah, he misunderstood the question. I hadn’t meant to pry into his past.

“No—sorry. I meant, when did you come in? I didn’t see you…”

He looked amused at that. He offered me a polite smile, but didn’t answer. His head rested on his hands now, and he kicked out against the water because I heard a splash. “You’re kinda cute.”

Well, now. I can readily admit that I wasn’t prepared for the comment, let alone how to respond to it. As I struggled to gather my wits, he spoke again, “What’s your name?”

“Markus,” I said, relieved that I could ignore the previous comment, “and you?”

“Indra.”

“That’s a nice name,” I heard myself say. Maybe in revenge for the awkward compliment he had spared me before.

But he only smiled at my words, “Damien gave it to me,” his tone of voice carried a note of pride in it. So this was one of Damien’s pets then—not that I could really talk. I suppose I fell into that category too.

I was curious about that—it meant he didn’t have a name before Damien smuggled him here. Homeless, then? Abandoned? It could even be amnesia. But, I didn’t ask. If he wanted to tell me more on the subject, he would have. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen Damien in a while now...”

He regarded me curiously, tilting his head to the side, “He comes to visit me every day when he’s home,” he sounded to be rather fond of Damien, eager to speak of him—it reminded me of a child speaking of the character they admired most in a book or movie.

Something about his words bothered me though. Damien coming to visit him, instead of the other way around? A suspicion nestled in my mind, but I pushed it away. No, no—I was being paranoid. Maybe because I couldn’t fathom someone who enjoyed swimming so much, they’d rather take the pond instead of the indoor pool Izaac had. Though, I supposed this one had a nicer view, but...

“Is your room one of those?” I gestured to the windows surrounding the garden, and he tilted his head upwards to look. Depending on his answer, maybe I could quiet down my troubled thoughts.

When he turned back to face me, there was a smile on his lips, but before he could reply, something caught our attention. There was movement out of the corner of my eye, and when I turned to look, I saw something dart across the skies. My first thought was: bat. Whatever it was, it swooped down, and headed straight for us. Before I could even react, it landed between Indra and me.

Bat wasn’t far off, though, at the same time, my guess managed to be rather off-mark. The creature that stood in front of me had leathery wings, but it wasn’t covered in fur, if not scales. The scales were a bright orange with swirls of azure lined with a deeper blue over its body. Towards its wings, face, and underbelly, they faded to a bright yellow color. It had four legs tipped with razor sharp claws, a long neck that ended in a snake-like head with a row of crest-like spikes running across its spine, and a thin whip-like tail. The only word I could come up with, to give it a name, was dragon. Though, it was much tinier than the terrors of ancient Europe—this one was comparable in size to a small dog, though the wings made it look larger.

Clamped in its jaws was a dragonfly. As I watched, the little dragon tilted its head back, and snapped its jaws around the bug until it disappeared into its throat. Satisfied with its work, it turned to look at Indra.

I turned to look at him too.

“Ah, good catch!” he was talking to the dragon, of course, “didn’t see you there, buddy.” And with those words, he turned to coo at the dragon, scratching it under its chin, and stroking it along its spine. I thought he had forgotten about me, but he turned to look up at me then, and smiled. “Markus, this is Kai. Kai, Markus.”

The dragon seemed to understand him at the very least, because it turned its head up to look at me, sniffing at the air.

“Ah, hi,” it looked friendly enough, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t bite.

As if reading my thoughts, Indra said, “He only eats bugs and fish—might snap at your fingers, but his teeth aren’t big.”

I guess that was an invitation to pet it, and I reached forward, tentatively. The dragon turned to face me, eyeing my fingers warily, but it didn’t really edge away from me. When I set my fingers against the dry scales of its neck, it turned to look away, purring.

“Do you swim?” Indra asked suddenly, his sapphire eyes sparkling.

Oh, shit. I didn’t know how I could respond to that without offending him. “Ah, water and I don’t really get along,” I muttered.

There was a flash of disappointment in his eyes, and I silently cursed—guess that wasn’t the day. “I see,” he did not sound happy about it, “not even a little bit? I can help keep you up.”

Ah, well, he didn’t seem to be giving up. “I’m not a very good swimmer...”

He seemed to be cheered by that, “That’s alright. I can keep you up, trust me,” he smiled, “I’m a good swimmer, and stronger than I look.”

Oh, dear. I don’t think he’ll be taking any of my refusals very well. “I’m sorry, but I’m a bit unsure when I don’t feel solid ground under my feet.”

“The water isn’t that deep around the edges, maybe to your waist,” he assured me, “it gets deeper, but I won’t let you wander there.”

Before I could answer, he slid down into the water. The little dragon flapped its wings, startled. When Indra emerged, he was right next to me, his eyes wide and pleading, “Please.”

Oh, no. It was the puppy dog eyes. Anything but the puppy dog eyes. I could already feel my will crumble under it. That, topped with his voice made it so it was all I could do to hold my ground instead of waltzing into his eager hands.

“Don’t let my head go under,” I warned him.

He nodded, all too eagerly, and urged me away from the platform and into the edge of the pond. It was then that I realized I had no swimwear. I hesitated, and felt his curious eyes on me. Ah, well, nothing to be done about that now. I didn’t really have any swimming trunks anyway. With another glance at Indra, I quickly kicked off my shoes, peeling away my jeans, and letting my shirt drop to the floor. All the while, his eyes were fixed on me, and there was a glint of hunger in them. He didn’t stir, however—just kept watching me.

When I was down, I sat by the edge, my legs dangling, and sinking into the waters. It was rather warm, I realized. Not exactly a welcoming Jacuzzi, but it was pleasant. 

I allowed my legs to get used to the temperature, and cast my eyes to look for Indra. He hadn’t moved from his spot, but when I met his eyes, he swam towards me.

My suspicions were right at the very least—when Indra threw himself forward, into the water, I noticed something that was definitely not legs. At the swell of his hips, the skin was covered in scales—deep blue, emerald green. They seemed to reflect the light—it was a brief glance, however, so I didn’t manage to catch a lot of details.

He emerged just before me, a small smile on his lips, “The water should reach around your rib cage,” he warned me, “the mud is slippery underneath, so make sure you get your toes into it or you’ll fall.”

I wasn’t sure how reliable his advice was, seeing as he had no legs himself, but I saw no reason to doubt it. With Indra just an arm’s reach away, I pushed myself off the edge of the pond in only my underwear, and carefully felt around with my feet.

He was right, at least—the ground above was so firm, I didn’t expect this to come loose so easily on the water. Taking his advice, I tried digging my feet into it, trying not to think of what could lie underneath. Just close your eyes, Markus—the boy wouldn’t start this off by frightening me, at least. I had to think there would be no nasty surprises there. The water reached just at my ribcage too. It was a bit startling to think a child would just drop off and sink into the waters, but I guess I was lucky I was not a child.

“Is it good?” he was smiling at me, his eyes bright.

“I’m not going any deeper than this...” I felt queasy, but I tried not to show it. There was no reason to, I told myself. Indra had assured me he wouldn’t let me wander into deeper waters, not that I had any intent of moving.

He pouted, “I promise I won’t let you go under,” he told me, drawing nearer.

Of course, I had expected this, but I really felt helpless under his gaze. The dragon had its head turned in our direction—I had to wonder what it was thinking.

He was close now, and his eyes looked wistful—his lips were slightly parted. When I smiled at him, he responded with one of his own. He did have a sort of innocent face to him—sweet, smooth, and unlined. It wasn’t exactly a child’s face—it was not round and soft, but more of a feminine one. His lips had a slightly pouty look to them, and the thick lashes, and long hair only emphasized this further. Even drenched in water, there was something charming about him.

“May I?” his voice was soft and shy, intimate. 

I nodded, and he drew closer, setting a hand against my cheek and stroking it. I was surprised that his hand was smooth—I would have expected it to be full of wrinkles because of the water, but I guess that was one of the perks of living in it. He ran his fingers over my lips, his gaze fixed on them. With him this close up, I noticed the ridges along the sides of his neck. They looked almost like scars.

“You can breathe underwater?” I kept my volume low, trying not to shake him from his mood.

“Above it too,” he hummed, his eyes meeting mine, “useful for singing atop the rocks and luring sailors to their death.”

His tone was light and joking, so I tried not to take his words to heart. “A mermaid,” I murmured, putting my hand against his cheek, “but you don’t look like much of a maid.”

He smiled wickedly at that, leaning into my hand, eyes half-closed, “Can’t help it, I’m afraid—it’s in my job description.”

I smiled, and his fingers wrapped around my wrist. Slowly, he brought the hand to his lips.

Yes, he was definitely charming.

He pushed himself towards me then, setting his hands around my hips. He leaned forward, his lips towards mine before I could realize what was going on, but it was a light, fleeting thing. He seemed to notice how I stiffened under his grip, because he turned away, pressing his lips to my throat, and collarbone. With little licks and nips, he trailed lower still. I saw a froth of bubbles rise as he kicked back with his tail, but he seemed well-settled in the water. I leaned back under his ministrations, feeling his hands knead slow circles into my skin. The action reminded me of Damien.

Indra trailed lower still, his head was below the water, and I could see the red of his gills against his skin. I would have been more curious if I hadn’t just realized what he was about to do.

I stiffened under his touch, and move my hands to tilt his chin upwards. He seemed to understand the message, because he rose from the water—eyes curious.

“Not that,” I told him, voice hoarse. That wasn’t exactly helping my case. Indra looked confused, but after a few breaths, his eyes widened, and the smile he offered me was gentle.

“I understand,” and he seemed to—he didn’t try it again.

He urged me to turn, and I grasped the pond’s abrupt edge for support. I expected him to push against me, but instead, he pressed his fingers against my shoulders, trailing kisses and rubs along my back. I felt my muscles slacken under his touch, and tried not to sight in bliss. This kind of treatment was unmistakable—at least he was taught well.

It was a very excited Indra that pressed against my back, and I felt his eager length against my skin. He was grasping me, his breathing growing deeper—

And suddenly, he stiffened and stopped.

“Did you bring any lubricant...?”

I turned around to face him—his eyes were filled with lust, but there was a big obvious hesitation then. I feared my answer would not quench his fears—I hadn’t really expected to find an attractive and very eager mermaid in the garden. “No.”

His face fell, he looked like he was about to burst into tears. In the end, he clutched at his head and groaned. “I need to tell Damien to keep me equipped,” he said, miserably.

I really had nothing to say to that, “Hey, it’s alright.”

But he shook his head. I felt the water _whoosh_ against my legs, and he was floating away—still facing me, but clearly moving away. “Don’t worry—it was nice to meet you, Markus,” a strained smile, “I’ll, ah, take care of business.”

He would not accept any words I threw at him. He shook his head and urged me on, lightly splashing me with water when I refused to budge. Just a few droplets, mind, but it was enough to get the message across. 

With a sigh, I turned away from him, setting my elbows against the ground to boost myself up to shore. The dragon was there, eyeing me and bouncing. He looked happy to see me, at least.

To my surprise, I felt hands around me, shoving me upwards, and away from the water. I landed heavily on the grass, but with considerably less effort from my part than I would have without his help. The dragon squeaked in alarm and scrambled away—I briefly wondered why it didn’t fly off, but dismissed the thought. I offered a word of thanks to Indra, and he smiled.

“You’ll come again, right?” he was giving me that puppy dog look, “and you’ll bring lube—non water-based.”

I didn’t know if I could take more water, even if he had been gentle, but I couldn’t exactly say no to those eyes. “Sure,” I assured him with a smile, “I’ll come back to see you as soon as I can.”

“Good,” his eyes glimmered, his smile was wide—I noticed something off about it.

Namely what looked to be wickedly sharp teeth—akin to those of a shark.

Suddenly, I didn’t feel so sure, but despite my sense of foreboding, I assured him I would come see him again before leaving.


	2. Scales

He was extremely pleased to see me—he smiled broadly once he emerged from the water, and he listened to my voice as if it was the most welcoming sound. He did not hurry me, or urge me along—he allowed me to ease into it. When the time came to take a dive to the waters, he nosed around curiously, but did not pressure me. Whatever I asked, he answered with a small smile—in exchange, I was patient with his curiosity.

Legs seemed to fascinate him. He asked me to allow him to inspect mine, and when I awkwardly gave my consent, he sunk below the waters, swirling around me. His fingers skimmed lightly against the skin of my thighs, and he trailed the muscles and bones as if it was something precious. His fingers tugged around my feet, and I lifted a foot to allow him to inspect it. The sudden motion nearly threw me off balance, but I somehow managed not to fall as he ran his fingers along the ankle and heel.

“You can walk and you can swim,” he said when I asked if there was any particular reason behind his fascination with legs, “yet can’t last under the water.”

I wasn’t sure if the answer satisfied me, but I nodded all the same. I doubted he would be able to explain it more than that.

When he pressed to me, I responded to him, grasping him as he trailed his hands along my spine, trailing open-mouthed kisses along my throat, shoulders, and chest. To my surprise, the scales of his tail weren’t slippery and slimy—if not smooth as I ran my hand along his waist. And deceptively so, when I tried to trail my fingers upwards I flinched back, hissing and gingerly snatching my hand away, causing Indra to spare me a curious look.

“Rough,” I said by way of explanation, glancing at my hand, relieved it came out unharmed.

“Placoid scales,” he said by way of explanation, then grasped my hand and set it against his waist, slowly trailing my fingers down—it felt smooth once more, “try not to do it against the grain,” he said with a small smile.

I felt embarrassed, and luckily for me, Indra did not pursue the subject. He turned his attention back to my collarbone, nipping and licking as he went.

His tail was a sight to behold—fins stuck out from the sides and along his spine. My first impression was right when it came to colors—wavy bars of emerald green and blue stretched along its length. The colors were darker along his back, and towards the tip of his fins and tail, but as they stretched around his underbelly, they lightened to pale colors that blended move evenly against his skin. The tail had the bars of colors stretching horizontally across it—a part of me wanted to inspect it closer still, but the constant swaying of it did not give me a clear opportunity. 

The hands that grasped me were firm, but gentle. He rubbed slow circles along the muscles of my back, and traced the sides of my spine with his thumbs. He clung to me, and I could feel his excited length press against my stomach. I tried to meet his eyes, but he was too distracted—gently moving against me, his eyes were cast downward, his hands moved to grasp—

“You’re a hard one aren’t you,” and then, he smiled, “or should I say the opposite?”

Maybe I had a stupid grin on my face then, “A bit, yes.”

He flashed a grin—revealing those unsettling teeth of his. They looked sharp, the edges jagged—no, that wasn’t the word. Serrated—like the bowie knife Izaac kept in his desk. It made me feel a stab of pity at those poor unfortunate fish, though I knew I had no reason to feel uneasy. He seemed to like nipping, but he knew better than to put any real strength behind his bites—and I only felt the little points pressing against my skin. Never hard enough to draw blood, and not even close to alarming me.

Indra pressed his lips against my jaw. He moved, lips skimming, he seemed to hesitate with his fingers around my length—tense. I supposed he was wondering if I would raise a protest, but I never did. Instead, I pressed my lips against his shoulder. I could feel him smile in response.

He moved his fingers along me, slowly at first, teasing me with his touch. I grunted, tugged at his arm to urge him on drawing a chuckle from his lips, but obeyed. His fingers moved deftly—tugging and pressing against my length until it started engorging with blood under his fingers. He leaned against me, and I groaned into his shoulder when he pressed our dicks together. He rubbed them slowly, and the friction sent sweet tingling heat through me. His fingers felt cold against my skin as he trailed them along my spine, making goose bumps rise along my flesh, but it was not a sensation that was entirely unwelcome.

“Humans are always so warm,” he murmured against my shoulder, still moving his hips against my hardening length.

“You’re cold blooded, then.”

“No,” he pressed his lips to the skin just below my ear, “Izaac doesn’t think I am.”

Huh, that was... interesting. If Izaac wasn’t sure, that meant he must have a rather interesting anatomy. Maybe it was all the dissected bodies’ fumes around the place, but I couldn’t help feeling a bit intrigued.

It was difficult to hold that train of thought with Indra pumping at my length, so I let it slip from my mind.

Eventually, when he was satisfied I was hard enough, he asked for the clincher—the thing that had made him push away from me with so much hurry. I smiled, and turned to point towards the edge of the pond—where I had left my clothes in a pile, just off the path that wound around the garden. In our little humping in the pond, we had wandered away from the edge—though Indra always made sure that my feet were planted firmly on the ground. It wasn’t that far, but looking back at it as I was now; it only made me realize how distracted I had been. I hardly thought about my watery death.

He nudged my arms, taking my wrist between his fingers and draping the arm over his shoulder. With a nod, I wound the other arm around his neck, gripping at him with perhaps a bit too much strength. If he felt it or not, he didn’t say. Wordlessly, he slowly spun us around, wrapping his own arms around me to hold me in place. 

Before I could gather my wits, he shoved his tail at my feet, sweeping them from under me, and in the same move, nestling me against his chest. I stiffened, holding my breath, but nothing happened. He simply floated away towards the shore, his tail moving behind me, with his back to the water. I lay, splayed awkwardly over him in what made me think of a inflatable bed—of the kind made for floating on the water so you could sunbathe.

Except this one was poking me, and kissing me, and with every motion of his tail, he succeeded in grinding against me.

Somehow, I managed to ease enough into him, so I didn’t tip us over, and he guided us safely to shore. Once there, he gently let me slip away from him to allow me to spelunk through my undergarments to find the little yellow lubricant bottle I had to beg off Damien.


	3. Leg Bones

“Walking looks dangerous.”

I side-eyed him, struggling to come up with an adequate response. “Swimming _is_ dangerous,” was going to be my retort, but I quickly figured out that would not be true for Indra. He was built for swimming, and had some weird modified gills to help matters as well. He did not have the shark drawback of losing one’s shit when flipped backwards, and he was stronger than your average fish. Overall, swimming posed little dangers for him.

“It’s a necessary risk.”

“There’s more water than there is land—it’s a stupid evolutionary step if you ask me.”

“Would you rather I was like you?”

He paused to consider that, his tail rippling emerald and sapphire with the light. Finally, he went with a sheepish, “I guess I like you like this.”

“Mm,” half inside the water as I was, I couldn’t exactly say walking had a lot of advantages. I’d feel groggy from spending so much time in water—and I would feel myself wade in and out with the tide, “but I do see your point.”

“Have you ever broken a leg?” he turned his curious eyes on me.

I tried not to flinch, and struggled not to even think about it. Indra didn’t know—he spent his days in this place, and most news from outside came from Damien. Damien would see no reason to tell Indra what Izaac had done, after all, Indra was quite fond of Izaac. That would only serve to sour their relationship, and become counter-productive in the end. There was no reason Indra should suspect Izaac of nothing worse than the usual slew—experiments, and a lot of flawed morals, but that should be it.

And if Damien hadn’t told him...

“Yeah,” I said, “walked around in crutches for a bit. It was fun.”

He flashed me a look of concern, and immediately pulled himself towards me. Cautiously, as if afraid they’d break, his fingers caressed my legs, skimming over my thighs, and spreading my legs. He pressed his lips just above my knee before he paused.

“Don’t let it happen again,” he told me, and I had to bite back a rueful grin.

“I’ll try.”


	4. Salt-Water Taffy

His quiet confidence was fractured and torn away when he was away from the water. He wanted to trust in me, wanted to believe I would do him no harm, but truth was, he was utterly helpless when there was no water under him. The look he spared me was sullen, and his eyes screamed his reluctance, but I assured him time and time again, speaking gently, and keeping close to him.

It was funny, in a way he was unsure on land as I was near water. I suppose I could understand his fear—he didn’t have the advantage of legs. If something went amiss, he must drag himself to the water and hope for the best.

I think he only consented because he trusted me—anyone else would have had to forcibly drag him from the waters, no matter how tempting their offer would be.

Trying to be gentle, I pressed my lips to his, my hand falling to his waist, trailing a path along his scales with my fingers.

I could not exactly say I had a lot of experience in arousing a mermaid, but I tried. He seemed to work much in the same way any other human would—just without legs. I fiddled awkwardly with the unexpected anatomy, but it did not take much coaching from my part. Indra clearly wanted me, and he did not fight my touch, nor try to resist my ministrations.

When I could grasp him, I wrapped my fingers around his length, trailing my fingers along it, skimming along the veins that stood out. He squirmed under my touch—half-moaning something that sounded like my name. I pressed my lips against his throat, trying to keep rhythm with the motion of my hand.

His face was flushed before long, and he held me to him, nipping any skin he could score along my arms and shoulders.

It was useless to protest his hold on me, but I managed to shrug him off, sliding lower along his abdomen. He squirmed under my touch, mumbling something unintelligible under his breath.

“You’re so warm,” his voice sounded far-away. He lay flat against the ground now, not that I blamed him. Reclining on his spine must not be the most comfortable position. When the trail of my licks reached even lower, however, he pushed himself up with his elbows, eyes wide. “M-Markus?”

Instead of replying, I trailed a lick along his length, smiling at his reaction. He groaned, and seemed to bite back more words—for a moment, I was afraid he’d slice his tongue clean in two with his teeth. I gave him another lick, trying to drag my tongue along his length slower and he squirmed and cursed. His tongue was fine then.

Taking care to keep my hand moving along his length, I took the tip of him into my mouth, covering the head with saliva and feeling it engorge under my ministrations. He had an odd taste to him—not like skin, and not entirely unpleasant. It reminded me of saltwater more than anything, and the whole of him smelled like the sea. One would think to relate fish to foul smells, and I guess I was being a little misled. Though, he wasn’t an actual fish either. He wasn’t warm either, or at least not as much as me—though his flushed face and engorged dick begged to differ.

I teased him with lips, teeth, tongue, and fingers. When I looked up to meet his eyes, his eyes were large and disbelieving, he kept moaning my name under his breath, mixed with words from a language I didn’t understand. I made a note to ask him later, as I took him into my mouth. Slowly, I bobbed my head up and down his length, enjoying the way he squirmed. 

He rocked underneath me, and something hit the water hard, spraying me with water droplets. When I turned to look, it was only to realize it was the flat of his tail—the only part of him that still hovered over the water. He groaned a protest, and splashed his tail against the water again. Grumpy mermaid.

I turned my attention back to him, sliding my mouth lower around him until he hit the back of my throat. Wary to start upchucking salt water, I slid him out, and continued to bob my head around his length. He groaned and moaned, and I quickened the pace, sliding my tongue along the underside of him, and flicking it along him.

“Markus—” his words were cut off into a moan. When I cast my glance towards his face, his back was tense against the ground, his head hidden away from sight.

I tried varying the pace, trying not to press my teeth against him. He did make that a bit difficult—moving against my mouth erratically. His fingers blindly grasped for my hair, winding against it and holding my head in place. His hips made little bucks against my mouth—still trying to be gentle, yet, not. If I wasn’t too busy with a dick in my mouth, I might have smiled at it.

Using both my hands, I held down his eager hips, pinning him in place. He noticed, because his grip suddenly disappeared from my head, and his fingers wound around the grass instead, pulling it by the roots. 

“Sorry,” he whispered hoarsely when he met my eyes, but I only smiled, taking a lick at his slit.

I continued to suck at him, largely uninterrupted. His tail slapped against the water every now and then, but when I met his eyes, I only saw eyes clouded by pleasure. I guess it was a reflex to squirm and kick out when someone sucked him off on land.

“Markus—” it wasn’t the first nor the last time he had moaned my name, but this time it carried an undertone of alarm. Curious, I looked up from his erect dick to his eyes. “I’m going to—”

“That’s fine,” I said with a small smile. He looked like he was about to faint when he caught a hint of my expression.

Gingerly now, I bobbed my head along his length, still trying to decide if I liked the salty taste of him, or not. It was different, at least—which was what I expected. I felt his muscles bunch under my touch, his abdomen stiffen, and I hurried my pace.

He groaned something unintelligible, and hot thick liquid shot into my mouth. I waited for the flow of it to stop, and allowed the limp member to fall from my mouth. To swallow or not to swallow? It was my curiosity that drove me this far, so it would almost be a shame to turn away now.

In the end, I swallowed, marveling at the curious taste that lingered along the walls of my mouth. It wasn’t the salty shock I had expected, instead it had a gentle kind of sweetness to it—not overwhelming, and certainly unlike anything I’ve had the pleasure of shoving into my mouth before.

“Did you—?” when I glanced at his expression, he looked surprised. Pleased, but surprised.

Smiling, I dragged myself to his side, letting my head nestle against his shoulder. “Don’t look so concerned—it’s not bad. Different than a human’s.”

That did not ease his concerns; he wrapped his arms around me, looking anxious. When I didn’t shy away from him, he picked up my hand, lifting it to his face, inspecting the palm with a frown. It took me a moment to realize he was inspecting for injury—I had grazed against his scales, after all, but I did not recall feeling any pain. I was growing increasingly used to handling Indra and his trick tail. 

“I’m not hurt,” I told him, fingers skimming against his chest once I snatched my hand back.

“You didn’t have to go that far.”

“But you liked it?”

His face turned red, and he looked away from me. When I leaned forward to press my lips against the side of his neck, he turned to face me, looking surprised.

“I-I did. That was great. I hadn’t...” he hesitated then, “you’re really good.”

“You taste good too.”

He did not take my compliment well; he squirmed and turned on his side to hide his face on my shoulder. I chuckled, and he only squirmed all the more.

“Not so bad above water, is it?” I hummed in his ear once he calmed down.

“Not with you,” he whispered back, his arms wrapping tight around me and pressing me to him.


	5. Swimming Lessons

“I have legs,” I told my wrinkled toes.

“You do,” he answered, his hands coming to rest at my ankles, fingers squeezing lightly.

“Legs, not fins or gills,” I told the smooth hands around my ankles. Their grasp changed to my foot, the fingers trailing loose lines and circles on my skin.

“I know.”

“They’re not made for swimming,” I protested, lightly, testily.

“What happened to that aquatic ape theory?”

“It’s false and misleading lies.”

“Says who?”

“Me.”

He looked up then, a small little smile hanging over his lips. His oddly brilliant sapphire eyes held my gaze. I was only providing him with amusing little words.

“I want to teach you how to swim,” he repeated. His eyes were not pleading; however, they were wide and all fake innocence.

“You want to drown me.”

“How can I drown my very own aquatic ape?”

“Fish. You’re a fish.”

“A talking fish—I swim and talk, see? Now what can _you_ do?”

My turn to grin, “Walk.”

His easy smiles morphed into a scowl.


	6. Lips and Grins

There was something about Indra that was both charming and startling.

His boyish face with his plump lips offered coy little seductive smiles that would have anyone waltzing into his arms. Even Damien, who had raised him, was not completely immune to the effects. Markus could see the dazzle in his eyes whenever he laid eyes on Indra.

But Indra himself seemed clueless about his effects on people. When Markus had commented on it, Indra looked skeptical, and did not completely believe Markus. When he had commented to Damien, Damien simply said he honestly did not know the ability behind his voice and manner. This type of communication was normal on his species, but raised away from mermaids as he was, his natural ability was actually quite diminished. Others of his kind would think him brusque, or even go as far as to consider him rude.

It did not stop it from being effective, however.

“What are you thinking?”

Markus looked up to meet Indra’s sapphire eyes. He lay across Markus’ lap, his head resting on Markus’ thigh, an arm pinned under it. The other free arm traced absentminded circles on Markus’ skin. His lips were slightly parted as he inclined his head to meet Markus’ gaze, and Markus could not help but think what those lips had been doing just moments before.

“How Izaac would kill me, and maybe Damien, if he knew I got my hands on some lube,” not exactly true, but it was a close second.

Indra grimaced, “You’re getting in trouble because of me...”

“Nah,” Markus immediately butted in, stretching a hand to curl my fingers around Indra’s hair, “I’m sure he knows by now, I’m just not sure what he’ll do about it.”

“Tell him it’s my fault,” he said, flashing one of those charming smiles that made Markus’ heart give a painful squeeze in his chest.

“I plan to.”

For some reason, that seemed to please Indra immensely. He smiled smugly to himself, nuzzling Markus’ stomach, and wrapping his arms around Markus’ waist.


	7. Fishy Behaviour

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?”

I looked up to the sound of a voice to see the very bright smiling face of Indra peeking from beneath the water. Hair sticking to the sides of his face, a glimmer in his eyes. Something about the wild look with the deadly sharp teeth was utterly charming.

I was charmed by shark teeth.

I had to smile.

“Not really cooking. Just walking around?”

“And you walked all the way here, hmm?”

The corner of his lips were tugged upwards in a wider smile. His tail shifted beneath the water to kick up several stray droplets.

“You did tell me to feel free to visit.”

His head tilted to the side, curiously, eyes regarding me carefully. It seemed he wanted to figure out something, his eyes narrowed to slits.

“I’m glad,” he said after what felt like an eternity, “won’t you take a little bath with me?”

I had to ask: “Something on your mind?”

He frowned lightly at that, his lips pursing. “I’m just waiting for one of your puns.”


	8. Salt-Water Sharks

There was a trickle of blood dripping from his red-stained lips. The surface of the water frothed with pink. As I watched something seemed to struggle forward—bubbles bursting forth, but with an annoyed frown, Indra stretched out a hand and pushed it back underwater. It almost looked like a head—

A human one.

Yet, when he turned his eyes back to me he smiled, his usual friendly smile, as if nothing in the world was amiss.

“I didn’t think you’d come today.”

That much was obvious.

As I watched, a hand rose from the water, bloody and torn, with a chunk missing of the side and grasped at Indra. Indra turned to frown at it, but chose to ignore it. Desperately, the hand clawed at him, grasping at his skin, and fighting against the grip that held the head down. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman under the depths of the pond, but I didn’t want to know either.

“Shouldn’t you—?” my mouth felt dry. I wiped a hand across my brow.

“I can’t exactly leave a guest unattended,” he hummed, oblivious to my discomfort.

“Ah, well,” I stuttered, my breath hitched at my throat. What exactly did you say in this type of situation? I wanted to turn and run, but this was _Indra_. He was kind and gentle to me—had never meant me any harm. I didn’t even think he was capable of harming a fish let alone this. He was Izaac’s creature, sure, but—no. I had known. I had denied it to myself, but I had known. Izaac didn’t exactly keep company with prude little bugs like me—and Indra was built for slaughtering. He was strong, quick, healthy, and had those deadly teeth. There was no reason he wouldn’t be able to. Hadn’t Damien himself said he was a shark? Deadly too. Warned me to be careful around him, no matter how friendly and jovial he might be, he could still strike out without warning. 

But I had never quite believed it. I still didn’t. Maybe he might nip at my hands, but he was mostly playful. I couldn’t see this young man turning psychopathic on anything and spontaneously ripping it to shreds. Even when he was seemingly drowning someone.

“Markus?” his eyes were wide and concerned now, his head tilted to the side. It was hideous how stupidly cute I found that.

“Ah—no—it’s alright. Don’t worry about me—c-carry on.”

My response did not seem to alleviate his fears, and he peered at my face while the hand tried to claw at his ribs. He did not even seem to feel the nails dragging across his skin—or maybe he was used to it.

“If you say so...” he didn’t seem to think of anything to say, but he was still clearly concerned.

When I nodded, he turned away from me, his hand leaving the head. It floated up, a curtain of long blond hair draping over the surface. In the same moment, the hand grasped at Indra, and the head rose up. I caught a hint of bewildered eyes, but mostly it was the mop of hair sticking to—her, I spot naked breast, blood trailing from her chest—face.

The girl tried to scream, but Indra put a hand over her mouth, flashing one of those kindly smiles—except this one made my stomach turn.

“Shhh, shhh, my pretty,” he hummed, his voice lilting with an accent I couldn’t place—there were always traces of it in his speech, but now, somehow it became obvious. Now, I couldn’t blame it on the slip of a tongue or a hitch in his breathing. “You’re scaring my friend. We don’t want that, now do we?” his voice was lovely—musical almost. I wasn’t the one being spoken to, yet I felt myself calming down.

Yes—that was right. Indra was harmless. He was friendly and open, and save a few love bites, he had never been particularly rough with me. The woman—well, hadn’t Indra mentioned that Izaac kept a few nasties under the water? That they were pretty much taught to avoid him, but anyone else and they’d be torn to shreds? Something about guard dogs, he had joked. They only attacked if they thought the intruder was there to do harm.

It wasn’t implausible to assume that the girl had fallen in.

“You alright?” Indra’s voice startled me out of my reverie, and I found myself hastily nodding. He smiled at that, then turned back to the girl. “See? Now that’s better. You won’t try to escape again, will you?”

The girl shook her head—her eyes were wide.

“Did you want a piece?” his eyes were turned towards me—deep sapphire, like the sea.

I had no idea what he could possibly be talking about, so I shook my head. “No.”

“Your loss,” he hummed in that delightful voice of his, then turned to the girl and sunk his teeth into her throat.

A scream rose in my throat, but shriveled up and died. The girl seemed too surprised to do anything, except flop down on the water. Indra kicked off with his tail, and dragged the girl below the surface using only his teeth. 

Red and pink spread from the spot where Indra and the girl had disappeared. Bubbled rose, and I saw Indra’s tail lash out from the depths. It was coiled and tense, and I felt my stomach give a turn to it.

Something rose from the water then, floating up, tattered and broken, from the mess of teeth and blood. It was pink and long—tube-like, and stained with crimson. When I realized what it was, I dropped to my knees. Vile rose in my throat, my brain screamed bloody murder at my limbs, but they were locked in place. I couldn’t even turn to look away from the sight.

The bubbles ceased, the waters calmed, and the red spot spread across the surface of the pond. It was like a long elegant snake—winding itself away from the center of origin towards the edges of the pond. There was also entirely too much of it. My stomach gave a little twist.

Then, something rose from the water. It was pale and smooth. It floated around in loose circles before I finally recognized what it was—an arm. Unharmed, save a spot just below its elbow, where it was severed off—vein, fat, muscle, and tissue hung from the stump, and something that looked like shredded bite marks and chunks of missing flesh trailed along the underside of it.

Indra himself rose from the waters soon after. Blood clung to his mouth and chest, pink and watery, but obviously there.

“You alright?” he sounded surprised. He swam towards the edge of the pond, his hands gripping and boosting himself over the edge. “Markus?”

I shook my head, and somehow, smiled at him. “Y-yeah. A little surprised is all.”

His tail kicked out against the water—another body part rose from the waves. I saw dozens of bite marks and chunks of missing flesh and looked away. “Are you sure? You look a little pale.”

I nodded, hurriedly. “It’s the—” the what? The way his friend had torn so heartlessly into a young naked girl, “I’m nauseous around blood.”

His eyes widened, he turned to look back at the state of the pond, “Oh. _Oh_. I’m so sorry—I didn’t know. Maybe you should go get Damien—you look like you’re about to faint.”

I nodded, and with his prompting voice, gathered the strength to stand. I turned to look away from him, and stumbled out of the garden. Feeling my food rise in waves up my esophagus and settle in the back of my mouth.


	9. Drowning Fish

I had saved his voice at least, for all the good that would do.

His captors had decided that they wouldn’t risk the young mermaid’s voice maturing enough to the point where their captive could use its allure to drag himself to freedom when I finally interfered. The three men had been dealt with, in the only way that was left to me, and now I was left with a young mermaid in the brink of death.

I may have saved him from having his tongue cut out, but that was all. In the end, whatever efforts I spent would just be a waste of breath—his condition was poor. So poor in fact, that I was sure he would die. If his tongue had been cut, the infection would have dealt with whatever strengths he had left, and simply perished in perhaps a week at most. If the tongue had remained intact, he might have had a month.

As it stood, his chances were still slim. His spine had been broken—snapped from place at the area where the scales started to grow over his skin. Movement had been, of course, completely lost, and his tail hung limp as I carried him in my arms. His ribs stuck out from his sides, and the bones of his scapula, joints, and vertebrae stuck out from under his skin—emaciated, and light as a feather because of it. His skin was hot and feverish, and a cold sweat covered his limbs and face. On top of that, water had been denied to him—the scales on his tail were brittle and dry, and in places, had been peeled off to reveal blistered and infected skin. 

He hadn’t spoken a word to me as of yet—had barely moved an inch. He did nothing as I had torn the chains from his wrists, and had only taken a sharp breath, gritting his teeth as he bared himself to the pain, as I lifted him into my arms. As he rested there, he had leaned his head to my chest, eyes half-closed, and refused to react to anything I told him.

I was half-afraid he simply could not hear or understand. Maybe he was too weak to summon up responses, or maybe he simply was resigning himself—what else would he know besides the cruel treatment he had received in the last few months? It wouldn’t be entirely farfetched of him to think he was simply going to die—was there really any other path for him?

Izaac would help him though—I had to believe that. If anyone could save him now it would be Izaac. Even if he couldn’t, he would damn well try. I had already tried telling him of the young mermaid, surely he would already be prepared for what was to come—he would know that I would inevitably ask for his help.

“Do you have a name?” I asked him once I set him down on the small flat bed that would house him until the morning—until I could get him to Izaac.

He did not deign to look at me—his eyes were turned upwards, his breathing fast and shallow.

When I set my hand down against his forehead, the heat emitting from his skin was unquestionable. I needed to lower his fever, but how? Would it be safe to assume that because mermaids looked partly human, that they would work in much the same way as well? 

I stood from the bed then, thoughts racing. I would need to find a bowl, cold water—I wasn’t sure how well he would deal with an all out bath, but maybe pouring a little water over his chapped lips and feverish skin would be the safer alternative. I’d have summoned up antibiotics, but would they even work? His current state was much too fragile to take risks; it would have to wait until he was back at Izaac’s facilities.

“Indra,” a frail voice wheezed behind me.

I half-turned to see he had moved just the slightest bit—head turned towards the side, eyes fixed on me. 

I smiled, “A good name,” I told him, trying to keep my voice low and gentle.

He licked his lips, “You?” he rasped.

“Damien.”

He seemed to nod—a little bob of his head, then he turned away, closing his eyes.

With little choice, I turned away from him, hunting down for the materials I would need.


End file.
